The Mission (Rewrite)
by afs262
Summary: When America brought in a girl he found in his yard, he was just being the Hero, like always. Could his kindness bring the downfall of not just him, but the world? (Rewrite cause why the heck not?)
1. Chapter 1

I swear, I knew exactly what I was doing as I screamed, "Help!" and fell down on the grass in front of the country's house. Within a minute I heard the door open and someone shout, "Don't worry, I'm the hero!" I smiled and rolled over onto my back, hoping he'd spot the movement. Sure enough, I soon felt arms lifting me up and carrying me. Cracking open one eye, I saw us heading towards his house. Yes! I mentally congratulated myself. I slowly opened both my eyes and saw the man I was expecting: Alfred Jones, or America. I'm pretty sure he noticed this, because he flashed me an overconfident smile.

"Don't worry, little dudette! The Hero has saved you!"

I resisted the urge to laugh or roll my eyes and instead let out an exaggerated groan, my eyes fluttering shut. I felt him tighten his grip on him and quicken his pace. Soon he was laying me down on something soft(er than the ground.) I once again opened my eyes and saw them, and I couldn't help my gasp. Luckily America seemed to think it was somehow because of him. To be honest, I had expected the American Idiot, but I hadn't planned for the quiet, older nation known as Kiku Honda, or Japan.

"Who is that, America-san?" I heard him say in his accent.

"I don't know, dude. Let's ask her! Yo, little dudette, what's your name?"

I turned my head away from the dark-haired island country and put on a confused expression as I pretended to think. Finally I said sadly, "I- I don't remember."

"That must suck, man! Do you know what happened to you?"

"Um... I remember a face... caterpillar eyebrows... green eyes... His hair was messy, I think it was blonde... I'm sorry, I don't know what happened..."

"Don't sweat it, dudette! You just described someone I know!"

Alfred rushed off to find his phone, leaving me alone with Kiku.

"Konnichiwa," I said, bowing as best as I could, "What's your name?" (Of course I knew his name, I just didn't want to sound suspicious later on.)

"Honda Kiku," he said quietly.

I had almost expected him to say Japan, but that would've been stupid. He wouldn't think I knew about the countries, why would he? I tried making some small talk, but he seemed uncomfortable. After a minute, I pretended to pass out again. I know you'd say that's unprofessional, Ariella, but I felt it was necessary at the time. Before you continue, you may want to listen to the file on the USB I sent you. It contains America's phone conversation with England. I didn't mention it earlier so I could surprise you, but I slipped one of the bugs by Alfred's ear. Luckily it happened to be the one he put his phone up to.

(Ariella, or Ari, put the report down and grabbed the USB she'd laid aside earlier. She plugged it into her laptop and soon enough she was listening to Alfred's loud voice.

"England, what do you know about the dudette in my yard?!" America shouted accusingly into his reciever.

Faintly, Ari heard another voice with a British accent ask, confused, "Alfred? What do you want?"

"You know why I called. Don't be stupid, Artie!"

"You're the one being stupid. What the bloody hell are you talking about?"

"The 12-year-old I found in my yard!"

"How does a child in your yard involve me?"

"Dude, when I asked her what happened, she said all she could remember was a face." Here Alfred paused, Ari assumed it was for some sort of dramatic effect. "With huge eyebrows, blonde hair, and green eyes. Britain, dude, that's totally you!"

The man on the other end of the phone sighed. "I haven't a clue what you're talking about." His tone suddenly changed, becoming more angry. "I have to go, the frog is here. I have to see what he wants."

The recording cut off there, and Ariella turned back to her younger cousin's report.)


	2. Chapter 2

I'm not sure when I fell asleep the first day, but I woke up with the Italian beside me. It startled me at first, but when I was past that, I noticed two things: 1) he was fast asleep, and 2) it was pitch black outside the window, an indication of the late hour. I took the opportunity to place a bug in the usual spot by the ear, the files will be saved under the folder "Countries' Recordings, sub-folder "Italy." Though most of its babbling, you might find something useful; who knows?

Anyway, I grabbed my flashlight from you-know-where and decided to explore a little bit. I wandered around a little, examining random rooms without any interruptions. That is, until I heard voices spoken in quiet whispers. I shined the light around until it landed on three men: one with long blonde hair (for a guy anyway), one with pale skin and silvery hair, and the last a smiling man with tan skin and green eyes. Behind them was a door, the back door, I think. You can probably guess who I saw, Ariella. Anyway, the trio stared at me, all looking shocked except for the tan one, who retained his smile.

"Vhat are you doing in mein house?" Prussia asked after a moment.

"I'm Emiko. Mr. Alfred found me in his yard and Mr. Kiku brought me here," I said as sweetly as I could. "Are you Prussia?"

"Ja, how did you know the awesome me?"

"I heard you yelling earlier," I said, giving him an innocent smile.

"Vhy are jou wandering around?"

"I woke up and Mr. Italy was in the bed too and I was scared."

The blonde, France, started to laugh. "You're scared of Veneziano?"

"M-maybe."

At this, he laughed harder. "Why?"

"I-it felt wrong, monsieur."

I'm not sure how his next words were understandable when the Frenchman seemed to find my (faked) irrational fear hysterically funny, but he told me in as reassuring a tone as he could muster, " _Enfant_ , Feliciano wouldn't force anything on you."

I knew that, of course, but I needed an excuse for my wandering, and it was the first thing to come to mind.

"Now go back to bed, Emiko," the albino told me hurriedly and harshly. The reason he wanted me gone was easy to guess: he was either going off somewhere with his friends, or sneaking back in after a long night of partying or something. I decided to toy with him a little.

"But now I'm too awake. Hey, what's your names anyway?"

"Bonjour, I am Francis," the blonde said, flashing me a smile.

"Hola! My name is Antonio!" the tan one told me, still retaining his own wide smile.

And finally, Prussia smirked and announced proudly, "I am zhe awesome Gilbert!"

"Your birdie is cute, can I pet him?"

Gilbert looked bewildered to say the least. After all, I'd pretended to be more interested in the little yellow bird resting on his head than him. His two friends snickered at his reaction.

After he composed himself, he answered with a, "Nein, you can't."

"Why not?"

He looked at me, anger briefly flashing in his eyes. "Because Gilbird doesn't like unawesome strangers. Hmm, jou know if you lie down you'll probably get tired."

"No, I'm wide awake! It won't work!"

"What if I sing you a lullaby?" France moved closer to me as he suggested this, and I screamed. All I could think of were the rumors regarding him being a rapist, even though I know they're just that: rumors.

All 3 men looked at me in confusion and shock as I hid behind Gilbert. He asked me what the heck I was doing back there, but I ignored him. Instead, I was straining to make out the footsteps I faintly heard coming closer. As I listened to them become louder, suddenly the lights clicked on, making me squint and rub my eyes. When my eyes adjusted, I saw Germany standing in the doorway, my flashlight uselessly aimed at him.

"Vhat is going on in here?!"

"I don't know, West! France said something to her and she unawesomely screamed."

Ludwig raised an eyebrow. "Vhat exactly did he say?"

"It vasn't anything dirty!" Prussia said, quick to defend his friend.

"Si, the nina couldn't sleep and decided to walk around and she ended up with us. Then our amigo France offered to sing her a lullaby," Spain said.

I yelped and ran to the blue-eyed country in the doorway, wrapping my arms around his waist. He seemed surprised, more so than when Italy did it the day before at least, but he still returned the hug. I looked up at his face, my brown eyes meeting his blue as he returned my gaze.

"Not their fault, Mr. Ludwig," I told him, releasing my arms. He did the same and I stepped back. "My leg just hurt really bad for no reason, and it made me scream." If I had looked back at the trio I'm sure I would've seen skeptical looks on their faces, but I didn't turn around to see.

"We can look at it tomorrow. You're going to need some sleep; I might have you train with us tomorrow," Ludwig led me back to Italy's room, where a certain Italian was missing. I didn't care though, so I climbed into the bed. (Later, I found out Italy had sneaked into Germany's bed almost as soon as he left.)

The next day I woke to someone softly calling "my" name. I opened my eyes and saw Japan.

"Huh?" I muttered sleepily.

"Emiko-san, you need to get up soon. Training with Germany and Italy starts in an hour."

"Thank you for waking me," I said politely in Japanese, "but I would like a change of clothes."

He nodded. "Maybe one of the others have something you could borrow."

I'll try to be brief about this, since I found this boring. (And the only reason I'm not skipping this completely is because you said I had to record as much as I could. I've also skipped the bathroom trips, by the way.)

Basically I went around asking everyone if they had anything. I almost ended up in something Prussia called his "Awesome Teutonic Knight Outfit," but he was laughing (I think? It sounded kinda odd, but I'm pretty sure he was laughing) the whole time so I just left. Next I asked Italy, but he ended up talking my ear off for 20 minutes about "Mr. Austria and Miss Hungary," so I made an excuse to get away. I'm not sure, but I think he was telling me about when he was my size. (I say size because he obviously wouldn't be my age even if his country was considered young at the time.)

Anyway, I left and ran into Germany in the hallway. I asked him and ended up sitting on his bed as he looked through his closet. Finally he pulled out a faded blue shirt that looked many sizes too small for him. Though I knew it would be way too large for my small form, I thanked him anyway and went to the bathroom I'd found last night. I grabbed my pouch and strapped it to my stomach before slipping on the shirt. The shirt wasn't sleeveless, which surprised me a little. When I put it on, what should've been short sleeves came a little past my elbow, and the bottom of the worn shirt came well past my knees, stopping just inches above my ankles. I also pulled my tan braided belt off the hand-me-down jeans I'd been wearing before and tightened it around my waist. I'm sure I looked ridiculous, but I didn't care.

I wasn't sure what to do from there. I was kinda hungry, but I wasn't sure if I should wait for someone to offer it or ask. I just decided to wait, so I went back to Italy's room. (After knocking first, of course. Last I'd seen him he wasn't wearing pants.) The useless Italian started going on and on about how cute I (apparently) looked. I guess I spaced out though, because the next thing I knew, he was looking at me expectantly and I had no clue what he'd just said. After a moment of looking and feeling stupid, I asked, "Che cosa?"

It turns out he'd offered to brush my hair for me. He sat on the middle of the bed while he did it, with me sitting in a way where my legs hung off the edge. Okay, I'll skim over some more boring parts like breakfast. Basically, Italy insisted I try some of his pasta for breakfast, and I ended up puking my organs out.

I had watched him cook the pasta earlier. He'd added a million Italian spices I'd never heard of before, and I think some of that just didn't agree with me. Well, that makes more sense to me than the whole "allergic to pasta" thing Feliciano was blubbering about. He was apparently sad for me that I'd never get to experience "the best food ever". I just stood there awkwardly, still positioned by the toilet in case I barfed again.

"Italy, vhy the heck are you on the bathroom floor?"

"Germany! Emiko's allergic to pasta and she'll have to go through her life never tasting the amazing goodness of-"

"Shut up!" Germany finally interrupted. The Italian went silent, with only sniffles coming from him. I wiped my mouth again and moved closer to Veneziano. I put my small hand on his back and rubbed circles, something I think I saw on TV a few times.

"There's no need to cry," I said softly in Italian, "There's other delicious foods."

Truthfully, this was less of an I-care-for-you thing and more of an I-need-you-to-trust-me-and-think-I-care-for-you thing.

"You know Italian?" Ludwig, who I'd almost forgotten was there, had asked.

"Is that what that was? There was just something in my head telling me I should say those words instead of what I was planning to say." (Thinking back, it's just a wordier version of what I told Veneziano when he asked.)

The German paused, probably trying to understand what I meant. However, before he could speak again, Feliciano suddenly turned around while still sitting and pulled me up on his lap in a hug. "You're just so sweet and cute and kind and adorable! And you even comforted me in my own language! Grazie, Emiko, Grazie!"

That's when he stood up, now holding me in his arms. I inwardly hated it, but I was careful to keep a smile on my lips. "Germany! Germany! What do you think?" The once-again-chipper Italian turned to see the taller man shaking his head and facepalming at the attention he was giving me.

"I think you should put the madchen down and wait outside while I go find Japan. Emiko, if you want to come train with us you can, but if you get too overwhelmed you can stop."

With that, I was left in a bathroom, still being held by useless Italy. (That's one thing I never thought I'd say. Then again, I also never thought I'd be given a mission as important as this one where my way-too-childlike face would be helpful.)

Less than fifteen minutes after that incident, the three nations and I were jogging as a warm-up. Though I might've been able to keep up with Japan or Germany, I deliberately stayed in the middle of Kiku, who wasn't far behind Ludwig, and way ahead of where Italy was chasing a butterfly. About ten minutes into the training, I got an idea.

I came to a complete halt and shouted, "I remember something!"

Japan stopped and turned around. "What is it, Emiko-san?"

"I remember... just running, out of breath, with a lot of other kids around a track. I think it was a contest!"

As we moved on, I "remember" more things, including an exercise-obsessed "daddy." (Ta-da! An explanation for my athletic abilities.) Blah blah blah, skipping over boring parts. When it was over, I joked, painting, "Maybe... if we keep going... I'd remember everything."

"Really? Ve, but you already did a lot! You manged to keep up and you didn't pass out or anything..." Italy wasn't nearly as tired as the rest of us because he kept getting distracted and so didn't do as much as the rest of us. As we rested on a bench, Germany suddenly said, "Italy, do 30 more push-ups for chasing that butterfly earlier!"

"Ve, but Germany! It was so pretty!"

"Go!"

As soon as Italy was out of earshot, the German turned to me. "Emiko?"

"Sir?" I said, facing him as well.

"Jou did much better than I thought you vould."

"Grazie!" I know I messed up; I know that's Italian. Fortunately he didn't seem to notice, possibly because he hears it from Italy or something. "Are we having lunch soon?"

"Ja. Japan offered to cook today."

"Is he good?"

He nodded. I'm not sure if Kiku heard me. After all, he was on the other side of Ludwig and I wasn't talking that loud.

"Is zhat a tattoo?"

His question caught me off guard.

A/R (Agent's Rant): I told you it was a bad idea. Guess who didn't listen? Maybe if it was on my hip or somewhere less likely to be seen it would've been fine, but silver chains around the wrist? But of course who listens to the teenager with the body of a child, right?

Yesterday I had on long sleeves which, for the most part, covered the stupid tattoo, but now it was in full view for anyone who looked. Alright, A/R over. Back to my report.

I stared at the chains circling my wrist, looking at it with a mix of surprise and fascination that made it seem as if I hadn't noticed it before.

"I guess so!" I said in fake amazement. The German looked at me oddly, probably wondering why a "child" would have a tattoo. While looking for a way to change the subject, my eyes wandered over to Italy, or at least where I'd last seen him.

"Hey, where'd Mr. Italy go?"

Germany's head turned to where I was looking, only to shout, "ITALY!"

I heard a faint yelp. A minute later Japan and I were the only ones left, because Ludwig took off running after a blur in the distance.

"Does this happen often?" I asked, turning to the Japanese man on the other end of the bench.

He sighed and nodded. "Come on, Emiko-chan. Let's go back to Germany-san's house and I'll start on lunch."

[A/n: Yes, I had to throw in the BTT. Sorry for the sucky chapter and probably incorrect usage of Japanese honorifics in the story so far. I tried to do a little research, but I still don't feel very confident on my understanding of it.]


End file.
